


Midnight City

by A_Strange_Vessel



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, Dystopia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Strange_Vessel/pseuds/A_Strange_Vessel
Summary: Prisoner 1182082118 is a prisoner of war who escapes and travels to the Midnight City to take down the tyrannical king, becoming King Arthur in the process.(See also: https://midnightcitystory.movie.blog/)





	1. Chapter 1

The guards marched me down the hallway, eventually stopping in front of one of many cell doors.

One metallic automaton opened said door, giving the order, “Enter, Prisoner 1182082118.”

For emphasis, or as a show of control, the second shoved me inside the cell.

I stumbled into the tight space, tripping myself on the edge of the bed, barely catching myself before falling into the other prisoner. I pushed myself away from my position of sort of hovering above him as I heard the door shut behind me.

I took in my surroundings. There was only enough room between the door and the twin-sized bed for me to stand there. A tiny window let in a sliver of moonlight from the opposite wall from the door behind me. I shuffled to my right, moving along the foot of the single bed shoved into the left corner. A toilet was shoved into the far corner in front of me. Instead of shuffling forward to it, I sat down on the bed, teetering on the side.

I felt my cellmate take my hand. “You’re freezing,” he whispered.

I realized he was right. I hadn’t noticed I’d been shivering.

He continued, “These tiny blankets don’t really help. And with such obviously tiny cells, and beds, the only thing we can do is use each other for warmth.”

“You’re not going to... hurt me, are you?” I asked. “I’ve heard stories about what prisoners sometimes do to each other.”

“No, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to,” my cellmate whispered.

I tugged at the shackle on my right ankle, noticing it’d attached itself to the bed frame with a thin, silver chain. Then I took the thin blanket my cellmate wasn’t using, wrapped it around myself the best I could, and rested up against him.

I asked, “Why do we keep whispering?”

“They can hear us, the guards. When you were brought in here, didn’t you notice all the doors with guards stationed in front of them? Those are the occupied cells,” my cellmate told me. “They’re really strict around here. If any of those metal men hear anyone speaking above a whisper, they’ll transmit a signal to our shackles to shock us.”

“How effective can it be as a punishment if they’re zapping our ankles?”

“Pretty damn, I hear. They’re pretty strong shocks. And wasn’t Achilles’ weakness his ankle?” my cellmate said. “By the way, 118, my number’s 13151841854.”

It seemed a good time as any to ask, “Your city was invaded, too?”

“Yeah, and my whole family is gone, tortured and killed during the invasion,” he replied. “And I’m supposed to consider myself lucky I ‘survived?’ We’re all prisoners of war here.”

“What little family I had died when my city was invaded, too. My wife, Genna, our baby son, not old enough to be christened with a name...”

Blinking back tears, I looked at 1315, really taking him in for the first time. I saw black hair, blue eyes, strong cheekbones, faint stubble... Hell, he only looked a couple years older than me, in the late twenties, maybe early thirties.

Warmth wasn’t the only reason why I suddenly slid my arms around my cellmate and cuddled up against him more. I couldn’t explain why, but I might’ve started to fall for him. I couldn’t explain why it was happening so quickly.

1315 wrapped his arms around me. His prison uniform disguised strong arms. I nuzzled against his neck. He kissed my forehead lightly and whispered, “When we get off this prison ship, we’re not going to the Island’s prison camp. We’re going to escape, and we can make our own family. We’re going to the Midnight City. And we’re going to find a way to take over.”

But for that night, I was happy with just having 1315 holding me like that. I lifted my face to meet his and kissed him deeply.

I rested my head against my cellmate, and he started absently playing with the blond curls of my hair. I fell asleep to the sound of 1315′s steady heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't mind me over here punching myself in the face behind my computer screen. Instalove is one of my top least favorite romance tropes, and here I am, using it straight away...
> 
> 118's face claim: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9b/8e/bf/9b8ebff7d125bccc092174a033064d54.jpg  
> 1315's face claim: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/bd/ce/c7/bdcec70e85f3cf75911d923f399ce16f.jpg


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning to 1315′s smile, his arms still around me. “Morning, love,” he whispered.

My heart melted, and I kissed him.

The two of us shifted awkwardly, trying to sit up in our tiny cell. As 1315 shuffled over to the toilet, I looked away to give him what privacy I could in such a situation.

Because no matter how happy we were to have found love, we were still prisoners of war stuck on a prison ship on our way to a prison camp.

The robotic guard posted outside our cell opened up a small, rectangular hole in the door, pushing in a pair of bowls of gruel. 1315 and I sat on the bed, our backs to the wall, and ate.

“About our families,” 1315 started. “They’re both gone. I... They never really cared about me, mine, so I don’t mind much they’re gone. You don’t have to say anything about yours if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Better to get it out of the way,” I said. “Genna... She was a good woman. I loved her as a friend, sure, but I could never love her as my wife, not like she wanted. Not like I should have...

“The whole thing was an arranged marriage. Back home, we were both from... rather prominent families. I couldn’t exactly say no. We tried to make things work, even if the relationship was somewhat one-sided.”

1315 asked, “But what about your son?”

I replied, “Yes, I’m gay, and no, I wasn’t really that comfortable with myself during the two years Genna and I were married before our son was born. But even with me being who I am, I still wanted to have a family of my own. I was happy to be a father those last couple weeks before my city was invaded and my family was killed.”

“I’m sorry, 118,” whispered 1315.

“It’s alright,” I told him. “Like you said last night, we can be our own family now.”

I hesitated before adding, “We were going to name him Colin.”

“Colin... I like that name,” 1315 said.

I changed the subject. “So, what’s this escape plan of yours?”

“Um...” 1315 said sheepishly. “Well, I don’t actually have one yet...”


	3. Chapter 3

How long did it take for the prison ship to get to the Island? Days? Weeks? Being stuck in such cramped quarters for so long made time bleed together.

One morning, we finally arrived in the Island’s Harbor. Then we were marched off the ship to the prison camp.

And we still had no escape plan. Somehow, considering the robo-guards and the electric shackles, we changed our minds and decided escaping would be easier from the prison camp itself.

As we marched along the edge of the Island to the camp, I looked off into the distance and saw a great black city, high on a hill.


End file.
